


Je Ne Te Promets Pas Le Monde (Mais Je Vais Te Donner L'Univers)

by Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox



Series: The Sum of Our Parts [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas, The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: A majority of this was written at like Midnight, Chameleon Arch, I hope you like it friend, M/M, This is for you Kyele, This is so self-indulgent omg, This plot is all over the place, okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox/pseuds/Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began when he was with Louis. He hardly noticed it at first, just the vague nagging sensation in his mind. He paid no attention to it, simply continued suggesting possible solutions to the bandit problem on the Savoyan border.</p><p>He should have known better than  to assume it would stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Je Ne Te Promets Pas Le Monde (Mais Je Vais Te Donner L'Univers)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyele/gifts).



It began when he was with Louis. He hardly noticed it at first, just the vague nagging sensation in his mind. He paid no attention to it, simply continued suggesting possible solutions to the bandit problem on the Savoyan border.

He should have known better than to assume it would stop.

~~

“Something the matter?” Jean asked, in one of their rare moments spent together without prying eyes.

“Of course not, dear.” He forced a smile, and his massaged his temples. “Just a headache.”

But something in the back of mind said, _Time’s Up_ , and his head pounded angrily. Treville hummed, and kissed him again, and Richelieu pretended everything was fine. He knew better than to run from problems, but France needed him. He couldn’t waste time on trivial things like his health. Especially not with Louis hosting an inane ball in less than a week, and a Comte visiting Paris after a long holiday in Savoy.

“I’ll have a doctor check me out later,” he promised.

“It’s that serious?”

“Probably not.” He lied. “But it’s best to check.”

“Hm.”

~

The woman came on the third day.

“Excuse me, I’m here to see the Doc---” She fiddled with a piece of paper. “ah, I’m here to see the Cardinal Richelieu.”

“Is he expecting you?”

“Er, no.” She said. “But if you could just tell him it’s important---”

Silence.

“Please, tell him there’s a message from Clara Oswald---”

“His Eminence is very busy, ma’am.” Jussac tried to be kind. “Of course he is.” She grumbled.

“Of course. Look, can you please just tell him that Clara Oswald needs to see him? It’s important.”

“Of course,” He lied.

~~~

“Rochefort, Have you met our dear Cardinal?” Queen Anne’s smile was polite but distant. So, he was bothering her.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Rochefort said. "I'm the Comte de Rochefort.”

"Cardinal Richelieu."

“It is an honor,” 

“I am nothing more than a humble servant of god.” And France.

“No,” Rochefort disagreed. “You are far more than that.” he drawled, a strange look in his eye.

“Yes,” Anne intervened. “You mean the world to all of us, Cardinal.”

~~~

“Aramis!” Athos called.

“Who’s that?”

“This lovely woman is called Clara Oswald.” He said. “And she needs our help.”

“With what?”

“With---”

“This _lovely woman_ can speak for herself, thank you,” She interrupted. “And I need your help contacting the Cardinal de Richelieu.”

“The Cardinal?” Athos frowned.

“Yeah, him.”

“What would you need to talk to him for.”

“He’s...a friend.”

“Ah.” So she was an old mistress.

“Aramis---”

“If you’ll give us a moment, Mademoiselle,” Aramis winked.

“Aramis, what are you doing,” Athos hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He said innocently. Too innocently.

“I’m simply helping a poor woman get in contact with an old friend after being wrongfully turned away by his guards.”

“ _Aramis,_ ”

“It’ll be fun!” He glared. “You’ll get us killed.”

“We haven’t been killed _yet._ ” He tried.

“All I need is to get this to him,” She said, a silver pocket watch dangling from her hand. “If that changes your answer at all.”

“I haven’t seen designs like that on a watch before.”

“It’s his,” she said. “I assumed he would want it back.”

Strangely generous for an ex-mistress. Anyone else would have taken any bit of silver of his they could get their hands on. He eyed her warily, her dress strange and her hair lacking the ribbons and plaits most higher-class woman would boast. She was no ordinary woman.

“Who would we be to deny such a humble request?” He murmured.

“Not the three musketeers, that’s for sure,” She giggled to some unknown joke, then sobered.“But this watch---It’s important. Inside it...Well, inside it is the only thing that can protect France from what’s to come.”

Now that was an idea. “I don’t think telling time does much of a difference for anyone, let alone France.” Aramis said.

“It’s not just a watch,” She shook her head. “And that’s why I can’t just hand it over to you.” She snatched it back up into her palm.

“What do you need, then?”

“Get me into the ambassador’s ball,” She said. “I’ll make sure you’re rewarded. Somehow,” She coughed.

“We’ll do it,” Aramis smiled. She smiled, and told them where they could find her before walking off.

“I don’t trust her, Aramis.” Athos muttered, watching her leave.

“What’s the worst she can do?”

“I don’t know,” He said. “That’s the problem.”

~~~

He was in walking with Louis when his headache grew splitting. He stumbled, unwittingly. “Cardinal?” Louis asked desperately. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” He swallowed. “I’m fine.”

Treville watched him from Louis’s other side, and no matter what looks Richelieu sent his way, he refused to stop being worried.

“Like hell you’re alright,” Louis frowned.“You must have a doctor look at you, Cardinal. Where would France be if her First Minister fell ill?” Where would France be indeed, he sighed, but relented. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong.

~~~

“The ball is quite the success, Your Majesty,”

“I do believe so, Cardinal.”

“Introducing the Lady Clara Oswald, of Blackpool.” A servant announced. Strange, the name was familiar.

“Some pretty little thing from England,” Louis murmured. No one of importance.

The Musicians began tuning their instruments, before moving into a pleasant little piece. Mozart, perhaps. Richelieu was always fond of Mozart.

Louis was conversing animatedly with that Comte de Rochefort. Couples spun across the dance floor; Richelieu sipped at a glass of champagne and searched out Treville with his eyes. The musketeers were guarding around the edges of the room, their Captain in a place of honor, near Louis’s side. He met his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. Treville refused to acknowledge him.

“Your Eminence,” A female voice jerked him out of his reverie.

“Lady Oswald,” he greeted her calmly.

She shifted uncomfortably. “Call me Clara, please.”

“Such wouldn’t be proper,” He frowned.

“Of course.” She coughed. “Anyways, uh, Cardinal. Has everything been fine, lately? You’ve been well, of course.”

“Of course.” He frowned.

“Haven’t had any headaches lately?” She kept looking around the room constantly.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Trying to say? What do you mean trying to say, I’m just trying to make small talk!” She rambled, giggling nervously. “Anyway, D---Cardinal, I think I really ought to give this to you---”she pressed a watch into his hand. “---Because I’m awfully late, and have you noticed that nobody has come in or out of those doors since I have?”

What? But she was right. There ought to have been a steady stream of servants coming through, or ladies deciding to mill around the gardens. But the doors hadn’t opened. “What are you suggesting?” But he knew quite well.

“Cardinal, I really think you should open that watch,” She fidgeted.

They were trapped. And this watch… “I don’t want to,” he looked at it. Treville looked at him questioningly from across the room. He met his stare with an intense, fearful look that meant one thing: Louis.

“What a lovely party, your majesty,” The Comte laughed loudly, his voice carrying across the room.

“It is, isn’t it?” Louis beamed.

“Yes. Really, It’s such a shame...” As if on cue, all the servants began moving stiffly, mechanically. “...that you’re going to die.”

And then the servants began to shoot. From guns. In their hands. And the screams began. Treville pulled Louis out of the way, the musketeers leapt to their feet with a cry of “Protect the King!” 

“Cardinal, open the watch,” The girl insisted.

“I don’t want to.” That watch---

“If you don’t, France will fall.”

It should have been easy. It wasn’t. But he was a man for France, and nothing could come before that. His hands shook. Treville was shouting something to his men. The watch was cold in his hand, silver and gleaming, and mocked him. He opened it. And he screamed.

~~

what

he didn’t

there was so much pain

No, Treville---

 _Treville_ \---

Silence.

~~

“Clara,” He said. “Give me my sonic screwdriver.”

“Doctor,” She sighed in relief.

“My screwdriver, Clara, now,” he snapped.

“Right! Right!” She fiddled with her dress, then stopped, her face going white.

“You don’t have it.”

“No.”

“Great,” He frowned. "I need you to go get it, Clara."

"But the doors—"

"Don't be an idiot, take the window." He snapped. "We're on the first floor." He stepped out into middle of the room. “You call this an invasion?” He scoffed. “What, you made some living plastic out of some old Barbies and locked us in a room? No, this isn't even living plastic. It's just a robot. A cheap, humanoid robot. I’ve seen better. I’ve read better. In cheap novels.”

“ _Richelieu_ \---” Captain Treville called out in a strangled voice.

But it did the intended effect. Rochefort turned towards him slowly; his mechanical minions stopped firing and followed suit.

“This technology is far beyond anything known to man,” Rochefort said. “What would you presume to know about it?”

“But my dear,” He smiled cruelly. “That would be presuming I am a human.”

“The Cardinal de Richelieu, an---”

“Alien? Yes.” He rolled his eyes. "Really, you humans, so predictable. Let me guess, this is all part of some grander scheme, and you were just promised France?"

"...not just France."

"Ah, pardon, the queen also." He snarked. "Not the best way to go about it. Really, did you never have a talk about consent in your life? Threatening to have someone killed never really heightens their affection for you."

"I'm not here to play games, Cardinal," Rochefort threatened.

"No, you're here to overthrow the monarchy," he said. "But I can't let you do that."

“And how would you propose to stop me?”

 _Where are you, Clara?_  “Simple, really," he said. "These bots, they're nothing. I've faced pets scarier than this. Which begs the question, why would your employer give you such rubbish equipment if they actually wanted you to succeed? More importantly, what is this rubbish telepathy blocker that keeps giving me a migraine, because this is honestly ridiculous."

"Telepathy—"

"Yes, Telepathy blocker. Now, where are you hiding it? What do you even need it for? It has to be related to you, because it started bothering me as a relatively psi-null human—" he stopped midsentence. "Oh dear. I'm almost sorry."

"What?"

"It all makes sense, in the end."

"You're mad," he scoffed.

"Tell me, Comte what do you remember before your holiday?" 

"What?"

"The time you spent in Savoy. Why did you go there? What did you do there?" He faltered. "I don't—"

"The real Comte de Rochefort was killed on his way back to Paris. You are nothing more than a robot with the Comte's memories. Your 'employers'' are nothing more than your creators." He said. "So, robocop, who's your master?"

The doors burst open, with Clara and those inseparables of Treville's— ah, the three musketeers, how novel. "Doctor!" Clara shouted and tossed him his sonic.

Setting Twenty three. The robots crumpled to the ground. "I'm not—" Rochefort protested weakly, before he too fell into a heap.

"Cardinal," Louis sounded faint. "What was that."

"Nothing to concern yourself with, your majesty." He smiled as charming as he could in the circumstances.

"Richelieu—" Treville. "—what the hell was that."

The part of him that was still the Cardinal Richelieu stopped in place. "Captain, if I told you I wasn't human, what would you say?"

"Now isn't the time for jokes, Armand," he hissed.

"My dear, have you ever known me to be a joking man?" He laughed humorlessly. "But you needn't fret. You won't be seeing me anytime soon." He shook his head. "Goodbye, Captain Treville. Clara, are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes.

~~~

“It’s quite simple really,” He explained, once they had snuck back into the TARDIS and he had been thoroughly accused of witchcraft. “The blocker was emitting from Rochefort, so any not-quite psi-null humans, or any unlikely aliens had no chance to suspect Rochefort. I couldn’t handle the technique it was using as a timelord, so I went back a bit after I dropped you off. And,” He scrunched his nose. “I became human."

"Hm." She said. "still can't believe you were human, by the way. How much farther back did you go, after you dropped me off?"

Twenty years. A lifetime. Long enough to become a different man. Long enough to fall in love. "Not very long at all."

"Uhuh.” She said. “Did you ever figure out who the robot’s ‘master’ was?”

"Clara, something’s are better left unknown.”

“Fine, then,” She grumbled. “So, who was the guy?” "What guy?"

"Y’know, the captain guy you were talking to."

"He's no one."

"He didn't look like no one." She said. “Looked to me like you were pretty close to asking him to run away with you.”

"He was... A friend.” Not a friend. “And I was not about to ask him to run away with me.”

Quiet. "You should go back to him, doctor. He looks like the sort to enjoy an adventure."

~~~

"Anywhere in space and time, my dear. Your choice."

A moment. “If anyone could do it, Armand, then it would be you.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [and all the years they fly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3934444) by [Kyele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyele/pseuds/Kyele)




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